Dirty Little Thief
by FluffyLemonn
Summary: Sango is a thief, wandering the streets of Tokyo. Never been caught, never been kissed. Well, that had to end SOMETIME, didn't it? Meet Miroku, pop star of any girl's dreams. Sort of. Rated for language, violence, possible lime-lemon... (HIATUS)
1. Wintergreen Breath

Disclaimer: Inuyasha is not mine, nor are the related characters. However, I DO own this plot!

Sometimes, life is a bitch. Sometimes, you need additional help. Sometimes, your own steam cannot get you up the hill. When those 'sometimes' strike, you need to find someone to confide in, someone who can help share your load for the time being. 

Sango never did have that someone. 

All her life, Sango was pushed back. Never really trusted. Her family died in a tragic accident, one the young Sango never quite got the whole story on. Since she was 7 or 8, she had stolen and pick-pocketed her way through life. She grew up on the streets, trusting no one and nothing. The only thing she knew and trusted were her hands- and they served her well.

By the time she was 13, she had committed enough crimes to land her permanently in jail. 

She never was caught, though. Years and years had passed, yet she had never had a single dealing with someone that didn't involve a quick five-second trade on the street and no confidentiality. She had never said more then 

"Here are my terms..."

"Deal."

"What do I get in return?"

"Thanks a bunch."

"Fuck you."

And most importantly:

"Never speak to me again. This was a one-time deal."

Sango never was that lovely, soft, perfect girl. She was lovely, carried an illegal gun, and had killed people through her own will. She was hardened, and because of that, she survived. She had always been like that imaginary perfect machine: it runs off of nothing. It needs no input, but only returns. She worked for herself, and never took a partner. She didn't have any friends, and she certainly had never had a boyfriend. She had never asked anything of anyone when she didn't have something they wanted in return, and she had never experienced a one-night stand. Like previously mentioned, she was a one-woman operation.

And that, dear reader, is EXACTLY what made her so damn susceptible.

~

Meet Miroku. All his life, he had been sick of the goodie-good crap. He was one of the wealthiest men in the area, and, even better, single. Every woman wanted him. Since he was little he had been the star of a bunch of TV shows, and his awing voice made him even more desirable. One could say he had it easy: even HE admitted to the fact that all he had to do was get up, sing a couple of lines that he didn't even WRITE, and he had wooing fan girls and paparazzi all over his "rock-solid" ass. He starred in a bunch of movies, all giving the wanna-be fans out there great shots of his muscles, perfectly proportionate face, the whole 9 yards. He was perfect.

Except for Koharu.

Koharu was this little fan girl that some jackass that USED to work for him had actually HIRED to be his groupie. She followed him around, lavished attention on him, and all the meanwhile gained popularity herself as his girlfriend. Miroku did not HAVE a girlfriend. He had some little sonovabitch that followed him around constantly and tried to get into his hotel room's bed like every night. And he was getting sick of it. True, she was nice, but she was there for the flashing cameras. She could have them, as far as he was concerned. He really, really, REALLY did not care. 

So he ran away. 

The first night he was spotted at a nice, expensive sushi and bathhouse restaurant. Hey, he was hungry and chilly!

He was brought back immediately. 

The second night he steered clear of any places like that. He went straight to the streets and spent the night using his nice, firm muscles to run around. He basically jogged up and down streets, all the while trying to avoid the desperate cops. He finally ended up in what was basically downtown ghetto Tokyo. The poor man.

He had no idea who's side of the street he was standing on.

How COULD he know that it belonged to Sango Kodachi?

Sango... the Black Rose.

~

Sango was sitting on a windowsill of an abandoned courthouse. 

'How ironic, ne? Me, Sango, on a courthouse's window. Keh.' She thought. Grinning in a rather sardonic fashion, she jingled the purse she had strapped to her belt. She opened it gently, lovingly, and pulled out a single blood red ruby. Twirling the fairly big jewel between her fingers, she tipped the long slate-like rarity along her fingers as one might a coin or a pencil. She showed no fear of dropping it: her well-worn, nimble fingers were used to dancing along that thin edge of "lost it all" and "made a million bucks". She deposited the jewel calmly into the leather pouch and settled more firmly against her current residence. She liked this "watchtower" of sorts- it gave her a good view of her "domain". Sango hated to sound like a gang member, but this was her territory. Kodachi, and ONLY Kodachi, committed crimes here. She was the only one who reaped the benefits from this side of town and the rich well-to-dos who lived near it. Anyone else who imposed upon her peace of mind was dead meat.

Literally.

Not to say that Sango ENJOYED killing- she did it sparingly and only in the greatest defense.

Of herself, naturally. 

Sango liked to think of herself as a good person. At least, she HAD been a good person. If her family had not been killed, she would have gone to the rich prep school and been happy. But they had kicked her early application out when her parents died.

It had been her first full-scale operation. 

She had plotted everything out, then destroyed the school inside-out. Nothing more then a burn mark and a few fluttering papers had been left. That, and a single black rose. Enter Sango's reign as the only thief in Tokyo to never be caught. Not once. Not even as a child or clumsy teenager. 

And she planned to keep it that way.

*KLUMPF KLUMPF KLUMPF*

Sango's crime-hardened ears pricked up at the sound of someone approaching. A thin figure made it's way down the alley. Sango narrowed her eyes. Crouching, then leaping the 15-some feet to the ground, she forced the person to skid to a halt. Flipping her dark brown hair over her shoulder, she questioned the interfering bastard.

"And who the hell, may I ask, are you?" She calmly asked, pulling out her smallest gun and cocking the beautifully proportionate weapon. The person swallowed, but straightened. Good. Sango hated a coward.

"Higurashi, Kagome. And may I presume that you are Kodachi, Sango?"

"You may."

"Kodachi-sama..." Ah. So they had a sense of propriety. Good. Maybe Sango would let her out unharmed. Maybe. Sango wouldn't kill her... that was only for when she was in a corner and it was pretty damn desperate. Needless to say, Sango didn't have to kill very often. 

"Kodachi-sama... there is an intruder on your territory..."

"No shit, Sherlock. You, you idiot!"

"Please... not me... a stranger... He crossed Inuyasha-kun's border minutes ago. He'll be here soon. It's just, you did Inuyasha-kun that favor once and he sent me ahead to warn you. The stranger is pretty slow, but he's not yet gone full-blown. We just thought that-"

"We? Are you his prozzie?"

"I-I beg your... what the HELL did you say!?"

"His ho. His whore. His bitch. Are you or are you not, eh?"

"NO! I am his girlfriend, thanks very much ya bastard!"

"Ah. Gomen, then. So. You are Kagome?"

"Kagome-san, if you don't mind, Kodachi-sama."

"Yes, Kagome-san. Now, get the hell offa my property. Inuyasha owes me nothing. I owe him nothing. We're square. Send that message to the ass. See if he can get it."

*Click click*

"Don't insult Inuyasha, you bitch." Kagome was pointing a gun at Sango's head. Sango smiled.

"Better not shoot."

"Watch me."

"How about we just shake? Neither of us is going to win- deal? You put down your gun and I put down mine. We're friendly, but that's it. I've already made this deal with Inuyasha. Now, get offa my territory before I blow your asshead off. Now." Sango pointed. Kagome growled and put her gun down. Smiling ruefully, she winked.

"Later, Sango-chan." With that, she was gone.

'Did she just call me Sango-CHAN!?'

~

Miroku slowed to a walk. 'Where the heck am I?' He wondered. 'This don't look like Kansas anymore, Toto...' (The movies were starting to go to his head.)

"Where are you going?" A cold, emotionless voice inquired. Miroku spun around. A female figure, dressed in black, slid off of the nearest wall. Miroku watched, enthralled, at the lack of gravity she seemed to possess. Her lithe, strong body slid up to his, and she grabbed his face. Pulling him close, she snarled.

"Do you know who's property you stand on?" She bared a set of white teeth.

"Do you know your breath smells like Wintergreen gum?"

*SMACK*

*CLICK CLICK*

"Answer me," Sango threatened. Her gun partially embedded in his forehead, she pressed him for information. She cocked it fully, letting him know she would shoot him by letting a random shot off into the sky.

^BANG^

^SHATTER^

The man winced slightly as the gunshot hit a bottle somewhere. He put up his hands silently.

"Ok. I confess. My name is Houshi, Miroku. Who are you, my lovely butterfly?"

"Call me a butterfly one more time and so help me KAMI I'll blow your brains out."

"Feisty."

"You're not the only one to say so. Unfortunately, those men didn't live long. So can the pickup lines or I'll be forced to help you." Sango said, narrowing her eyes. This one was a definite hentai. 

"Help me, baby." Miroku said, cocking an eyebrow and showing her his full-blown melt-your-damn-legs smile. Laughing, he looked at Sango's confused face. "What's the matter? Ok, whom do you work for, eh? I mean, what company?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I mean your director. Producer. Lawyer. Agent, for crying out loud. Who? Do you model? Do you represent a business? Or are you a free enterprise entrepreneur?"

"Once again: what the hell are you talking about? You act like I'm an actress or celebrity or something." Sango looked at him closer. "Holy shit- are you that damn singing actor guy? The one from, oh, what the hell is it called-"

"_Shikon: The Series_?"

"That's it. Are you that-"

"Perverted ladies-man monk?"

"Yeah! Him!"

"Yup. That's me."

And then, at least in Miroku's perspective, the world went black.

Sango, however, could not believe her luck.

"Of all the people he runs into…" She chuckled, throwing the unconscious celebrity over her shoulder and sprinting off. "I wonder how much moo-la I can get for not slitting his throat?"

Just as Sango was running off, she was forced to stop. That, to say the least, pissed her off. Growling at the tall figure in front of her, she straightened. Long, silver hair floated in the moonlight, giving the impression of Inuyasha, but Sango wasn't fooled.

"Sesshomaru."

"Sango."

"Outta my way. Or I shall be forced to hurt you."

"Why, may I ask, do you have him slung over your shoulder?" Sesshomaru asked quietly, completely disregarding her previous order. "Listen. I am aware that you recently robbed a mansion here. In exchange for the ruby you were twirling earlier, I can get you to where you need to be faster. And set you up with new section of town. Namely… mine. A partnership. Sango, you cannot run forever. Your crimes are getting out of control. Let me help you. You know very well that Naraku is getting stronger, and he has something you don't."

"Henchmen."

"Exactly." Sesshomaru finished. Sango stood, pondering, then dropped the celebrity roughly to the ground. 

"Thank you, Sesshomaru, for the kind offer. You know as well as I do, you bastard, that I don't accept help. I'm better then Naraku. You know that."

"But I also know that, due to the sudden loss of one of his henchmen, he has determined that it was YOU who stole them away and he has turned you in."

Sango choked.

"HE DID WHAT!?"

"My dearest Kodachi, my dearest rose… He turned you in to the authorities. Listen. Can you hear their sirens, or did all of your training to become as near to youkai as possible not help you?" Sesshomaru asked, cocking an elegant eyebrow. Sango listened. She, indeed, could hear the sirens.

"OH SHIT! DAMMIT! FUCK THAT BASTARD!" She screamed, banging her head with every vile word. Sesshomaru sighed.

"I suggest you run. Or take up my offer." Sango considered for a moment.

"My services and land are worth more then a fricking jewel, Sesshomaru. Listen, I get the ride and you save my ass. I get your territory. In return, you get my help in plans and my land as well. It can also be cancelled. How does that sound for now?" Sango spat out. The police were closing in- Sesshomaru couldn't fly- how was he expecting to get them out now? Sesshomaru nodded.

"Deal. We will discuss more later. Kagura?" 

'Kagura?' Thought Sango. 'She was… she was the stolen henchman! Or henchwoman! Or whatever! That fricking bastard! SESSHOMARU!!

Nonetheless, Sango grabbed her breathing prize, hopped onto some stupid feather, and was transported to the section of town that Sesshomaru owned. The biggest part of rich idiots to ever exist. 

The Western Lands, they were called.

^Whee! One chappie done! Wah-hoo! Yippee! Ok I'll stop.

Read 'n review, ppl! ^giggles^ Sango… you dirty thief you! Stealing Miroku like that… Jeez! 

PS: I need 5 reviews to continue off of a first chapter. I leave it in your hands, readers. 

~Lemonn


	2. I Don't Wanna Hear It

Disclaimer: I don't own Inuyasha, nor Miroku. Currently... Sango owns him.

Thank you for all of those beautiful reviews! I was absolutely stunned at the vast amount that I received. The only reason I get to post this chapter is because I already had it written. Slave to One's Fears will be up soon. Sorry for the delay.

-.-

Miroku woke, the haze of before clouding his mind. He tried to sit up before   
realizing that he was already up, as well as tied tightly around the chest.   
He grinned. He began to struggle, trying to undo the knot holding his hands   
behind his back. He smiled fully, but soon his face was twisted with   
frustration. He was confident, however, and that was what made Sango give   
away her position from the darkness of the room.  
  
"You look like a million bucks. You gonna get away?" She smirked.  
  
"Yes, I am." Miroku said, flashing her a grin that would have disintegrated   
any other girl. But not our thief, oh heavens no. Sango ignored him.  
  
"What makes you think you can undo my knots, eh?"  
  
"I'm in Shikon, remember? I learned how to undo knots in one shot." He   
continued to struggle. Sango rolled her eyes.  
  
"Boy, I've tied up REAL demons- not some fakes like the ones you worked   
with. If they couldn't get out, and they had claws, what make you so sure   
YOU can get out? You're only human."  
  
"Excuse ME, Mistress Thief. You're human too. Surely you have made mistakes   
in your knots." Miroku shot back. Truth be told, he was beginning to sweat.   
These knots were seriously tight, and cutting into his wrists. They were   
really starting to hurt him. He struggled so hard at one point the chair   
fell over, and Sango responded by promptly laughing her ass off.  
  
"Oh-ho, who's so smart now, Mr. Celebrity?"  
  
"Shuddup, Mistress Thief."  
  
"That's not my name," Sango stated, calmly examining her utility-short   
nails. Miroku wrinkled his nose as best he could- it was pressed against the   
floor.  
  
"Well, my name isn't Mr. Celebrity. So there."  
  
"How mature," Sango said. Miroku could hardly miss the disdain and sarcasm   
wreathing her voice. Suddenly, he found a rift in the knots. Perfect!  
  
"Ah-ha!" He yelled, leaping up as soon as the ropes were free. Sango   
immediately shrunk against the wall. He ran to the door with the chair and   
jammed it. He turned, smiling brightly. He let his eyes flick about, taking   
in his surroundings. A traditional empty storage room, by the looks of it.   
He smiled at the shadowy figure hugging the wall. "So, Mistress Thief. Not   
so tough now?" He didn't get to even start his laugh before the girl kicked   
out viciously and he basically flew into the wall. Standing up shakily, he   
flicked his midnight hair out of his face before staring at the girl, who   
was edging towards the door. "Oh, no you don't!" He muttered, throwing   
himself at her. He crashed on top of her, knocking her down. He struggled to   
grab her hands, but she landed a punch before he could get them. He spit   
blood off to the side before managing to wrap his strong hands around her   
wrists. Linking his legs in hers to prevent her from kicking him off, he   
grinned.  
  
"Sorry, Mistress Thief. I've been in too many movies to just let you kick me   
off nice and simple. I'm not stupid." He spit some more blood away. Damn,   
she could punch! The woman beneath him snarled.  
  
"Shut up, idiot. You've got nothing to do to me, now that you've got me   
caught." In truth, Sango was stalling. She had never been beaten by anyone,   
and furthermore, she had never been beneath a man. That, to say the least,   
pissed her off royally. The man above her smiled in the most irritating way   
she had ever seen.  
  
"Actually, I DO have something I could do. I could annoy you to hell and   
back. Hmm, what SHALL I do? I could... tell you that you have nice legs!"   
Sango winced. Ok, that was just wrong. The pervert. "Except, they're a bit   
thick. But that's ok- what else would you expect from an extremely muscular   
unfeminine female?" Sango gasped. No. the BASTARD! She tried to spit in his   
face, but he moved his neck to the left. "So, did that hurt? Hmm?"  
  
"Stop!" Sango was seething. All her life she had been told that, and this   
was the last straw.  
  
"You have nice breasts."  
  
"I said quit it! You are verbally harassing me!" Sango, once again, was   
stalling. That, and she had a total pervert on top of her increasingly   
agitated body. -shudder- The movie star on top of her smiled. He licked his   
lips.  
  
"What happens if I kiss you?" Sango froze. He wouldn't dare.  
  
"Don't you even THINK about it, you ass! I will shoot you! I will!" She   
struggled harder then she ever had in her life. _There is no way I am going   
to give my first kiss to him! NO!_ Miroku laughed.  
  
"Ohhh, would that BOTHER our wittle thief? Hmm? Would it?" He leaned in   
closer. "Would it make you feel uncomfortable?" His face lit up   
mischievously at a sudden random (and accurate) thought. "It wouldn't be   
your first, would it, Mistress Thief?" Sango tried to keep her face as still   
as a mask, but she was beginning to panic. "It would be!" He leaned in so   
close that their noses were touching. "And to think," he breathed. "You   
originally stole me!" He closed the distance between their lips. Sango   
wanted to scream. _No!_ She had planned on four things being the same in her   
life:  
  
Never been kissed.  
  
Always a virgin.  
  
Never been caught.  
  
Always a thief.  
  
There went her number one! Sango's eyes began to see red. She was so mad.   
Then, she closed her eyes and tried to figure out a way to get the man off   
of her. She tried to not notice his lips, but it wasn't working so well.   
_Soft. very soft. Keh. What a bastard!_ Sango's eyes flew open and met his   
indigo ones as his tongue gently traced her lower lip. As disgusted and near   
to vomiting as Sango was, she devised a quick plan. Closing her eyes, she   
pushed her mouth as hard as she could against his. Miroku moaned in pleasure   
and licked her bottom lip again. Her inexperienced tongue copied his and   
flicked out, dashing across his lip quickly. She opened her mouth, and tried   
not to laugh as the idiot eagerly moaned again and invaded her mouth. She   
let him explore for a few split seconds, then made her move.  
  
She bit as hard as she could on his tongue.  
  
Miroku yelled bloody murder and leapt off of her, spitting blood and yelling   
various curses. Sango, laughing her ass off, sprinted to the door and opened   
it. She quickly locked it from the outside and listened to Miroku stumbling   
around inside, swearing like a sailor. She kept laughing.  
  
"You pervert! How does it feel, eh?"  
  
"I'm bleeding all over!"  
  
"Yeah, well, girls bleed all over once a fricking month and we don't   
complain all that much!"  
  
Silence was indeed golden and present. Sango snickered as he began to yell   
again.  
  
"Ow! Shit! Dammit! Wench! Bitch! And how did you learn to kiss like that!?"   
Sango froze, then shook her head and walked away. She walked straight into   
Sesshomaru.  
  
"Shut up. I don't wanna hear it." She snarled, then walked on. Sesshomaru   
just shook his head and kept going.

-.-  
  
Miroku sat inside his prison. It had been nearly an hour since he had   
seen/heard of head or tail of that girl. His tongue had stopped bleeding,   
thankfully. It had a nasty cut on it, and Miroku was only happy because   
everyone knows that if you split your tongue it will grow back. Otherwise,   
he would be panicking. He shifted, trying to relieve the sore muscles in his   
legs. Where was she? As though on cue, she walked in. He noticed the gun on   
her hip, and stood up. She shut the door, nodding to a woman guard outside,   
and turned to face him. Her face was unemotional, and she seemed to have   
recovered from the little episode of before. She sighed, and the next thing   
Miroku knew he was up against the wall. Naturally, her gun was embedded once   
again in his forehead. She snarled at him.  
  
"Listen, you bastard. You stole my first kiss, you know that? I planned on   
never being kissed, and-" She cut herself off. She was ranting, and she knew   
it. Sango flicked her eyes shut briefly to calm herself before opening them   
and meeting his indigo ones. Miroku looked at her solemnly. He nodded.  
  
"Believe it or not, I know how you feel. My first kiss was stolen, too."  
  
"That may be true, but that was a movie!" Sango said, trying to find an   
excuse. Miroku shook his head.  
  
"Not counting the movies. A girl named Koharu kissed me in front of a crowd   
of about 50,000 paparazzi and fans. It was really bad, and it included   
tongue." He said, quietly nodding. "And if THAT doesn't satisfy you, then   
this will. My other first kiss was given to a German swimsuit model who was   
currently screwing my manager every night. And we were even going out, too.   
I caught them the same night I threw away my first kiss. So don't feel so   
bad." Sango stared at him. From movies to hookers to German models-  
  
"Jeezuz."  
  
"Yeah. Tell me about it." He smiled. "But in all truth, you are a better   
kisser then that German model or anyone else I've ever kissed, for that   
matter. And I even got bitten in your kiss." Sango slapped him point-blank.  
  
"Oh, no you don't! Don't even think about trying to flatter me! Stop! Stop   
now!" Sango screamed. She wouldn't fall for this! This was shit! She fumed,   
but Miroku shook his head.  
  
"Go ahead and shoot me. I don't care. It's better then returning to the hell   
I live in anyways." Sango couldn't help but bring her gun down a bit.  
  
"Your life is perfect! Everyone serves you on bended knee, everyone worships   
you! You have fan girls and paparazzi and agents swarming after you day in   
and day out. You have everything you could ever want. You lack nothing. Tell   
me, Mr. Celebrity. How is that hell?" Sango asked, thoroughly puzzled,   
fuming, envious, proud, and ticked, all at the same time. Miroku sadly shook   
his head again.  
  
"But I am not free. I have to _put up_ with the paparazzi, the fan girls, the   
agents. I'm not allowed anywhere that's not on my Palm Pilot. I'm not   
allowed to go anywhere unaccompanied. I lack a family, they died when I was   
young. And to top it all off, I am severely deprived of knowing any girls   
that haven't gotten laid for money. That, my pretty one, is hell." He   
finished. Sango sputtered.  
  
"Are you saying my life is easy?" The bridge of Sango's nose turned a light   
pink with anger. She was thankful it was dark enough in the room for it to   
go unnoticed.  
  
"I'm saying I want your life." Miroku said simply, shrugging. Sango   
sputtered again.  
  
"You want to be on the city's top 50 list? At the very top? You want to be   
restricted to where you live because you are a criminal? You want to kill   
people and not give a damn?" Sango asked, her voice losing its usual   
control. Miroku stared at her.  
  
_Did she just... open up?_ Miroku thought. Sango, realizing her mistake of   
losing her cool, quickly covered her tracks effectively.  
  
"Well, you're pretty wise if you want my life. I love it, and I would never   
stop being a fugitive of the law." Sango stated this proudly, holding her   
head high and flicking her long, ponytail-bound brown hair over her   
shoulder. She smiled prettily, but coldly. "And now, oh-annoying-one, you   
die." She cocked the gun. Miroku held up one hand.  
  
"Wait. Just a second. May I say some things before I die? Just so you can   
prove to the media that all of this things are true? They tend to spread   
nasty rumors and I wish to say differently before I die." He asked solemnly.   
Sango rolled her eyes.  
  
"Make it quick, Mr. Celebrity." She snapped, impatient. The sooner he was   
eliminated and his remains burned, the better.  
  
"First off, my name is Miroku Kazaana. Not Miroku Houshi, or Miroku Kaze. I   
was born and raised as a monk, not a farmer or a pop star. I am a virgin,   
not some sicko who runs around the brothel houses every night. I was   
actually dating a German swimsuit model, not a French walkway model. I never   
had an affair with any American pop star blonde. I actually do play the bass   
for a small, personal band. I-"  
  
"Cut it short. I gotta kill you," Sango said. Amazingly, Miroku was   
unaffected and nodded.  
  
"Yep, almost done. I don't have any siblings. I did get drunk once in tenth   
grade. And the last thing is this: you are the most beautiful woman I've   
ever met, and you really do have nice breasts. Sorry, but I have to turn you   
in. Smile for the cameras!" With that, he knocked Sango's gun away and   
kissed her full on the lips, prying her mouth open and twisting in his   
tongue. Sango made a small sound, hurt and disgusted, and tried to pull   
away. Miroku held onto her body tightly and kissed her harshly. He broke   
away, smiling broadly. It was then that Sango noticed her guard was   
unconscious, and that cameramen had crowded very recently (as in two seconds   
ago) into the room. Her hereditary blush swept the bridge of her nose once   
more, and she realized that he had kissed her for them to take pictures.   
Shit.  
  
"Miroku! Miroku! What is your relationship with this thief!?"  
  
"Are you having an affair?"  
  
"The famous actor slash singer, Miroku Houshi-"  
  
"KAZAANA! Miroku KAZAANA!" Yelled Miroku, but he didn't seem to mind.  
  
"-has apparently been having a sex scandal!"  
  
Sango stood there, shocked out of her mind. In all her life, she had never   
been this close to being caught. Sango decided she really did not like it.   
They were a bit close for comfort. She ducked and darted, dashing out of the   
room. She sprinted down the hallway and out into the street, trying to find   
an escape. She dodged between two camera trucks and finally found her way   
into an ally, where she sat down. Closing her eyes, she tried to slow her   
breathing as she listened to sirens in the distance. They were bearing down   
on her, she was on unknown territory, and there was a pop star kissing her   
at random intervals. At the moment, life sucked ass. To put it plainly.  
  
"Mistress Thief?"  
  
"SHIT!" Sango whipped around, only to see Miroku in a car. He motioned her   
over. Sango obliged, having every intention of pulling out her gun and   
laughing her ass off when she blew his smartass brains out. Soon, however,   
she discovered that her gun was back at her house. She slowed down and   
stopped in front of the window, swearing loudly.  
  
"What do you want? Come to kiss me again and ruin my life?" Sango said,   
flipping him off and kicking his car. She left a dent, actually. Miroku   
chuckled and jerked his thumb in the direction of the sirens.  
  
"Listen, Mistress Thief. Here those sirens? Nobody but me can cancel them,   
so I suggest you get in the fricking car and shut your ass up. Kapeesh?" He   
said, as though bored. Sango, seeing red flashing lights in the nearest   
road, jumped over the car door, snarled at Miroku to drive, and crossed her   
arms. She hated playing the victim. She just- she just had no other way out.   
She looked over at the smiling star, and growled.  
  
"So. Where are you taking me?" She asked, trying to emphasize the edge in   
her voice. Miroku shrugged.  
  
"Correction, Mistress Thief. Where are you going to lead me?" He asked,   
flicking his eyes at her before eyeing the road again. "I mean, I can't go   
back home. Like I said, it's parallel to hell and I'm sick of it. So. Where   
to?" Sango laughed cruelly.  
  
"As if, Mr. Celebrity. I'm not going anywhere with you."  
  
"Listen. Let me stay with you, ok?"  
  
"And what?"  
  
"I dunno, teach me to be a thief." Miroku said, as though it were obvious.   
Sango laughed as though it was the most hilarious thing she'd ever heard.   
Which it kind of was.  
  
"You, a thief? Oh, the star tells jokes!"  
  
"I'm serious."  
  
"Why would I do that?" Sango asked suddenly, twisting her torso towards him.   
She cocked a dark eyebrow. "What I mean to say is. what's in it for me? I   
have an untrained bastard on my hands who's probably never touched a gun   
before. Well, except for prop ones. But anyways- you'd be nothing but a   
hindrance. Let me enlighten you to something, Mr. Celebrity." She pulled on   
his collar, not really caring that he was driving. She put her mouth next to   
his ear, breathing into it. Unbeknownst to her, she was driving Miroku mad;   
the feeling of her breath on his skin was inducing an ache in his body. One   
that told him to kiss her senseless with all the passion he could muster. He   
shoved it down as she continued. "I have never taken a single partner in   
anything. Never. I've been alone on the streets since I could remember and   
talk straight. If you think I would start a partnership, much less with you,   
you are insane. It just doesn't happen, love." She said the last word with   
sarcasm dripping from her voice, but Miroku still soaked up the wonderful   
way it sounded coming from her. He smiled crookedly.  
  
"You know, I am in top physical condition. And, that one Sesshomaru guy said   
something about a henchman, Naraku, and competition, so I think you actually   
DO need a partner. I overheard that while I was on the verge of blacking out   
again from your blow to my head. Oh, and by the way, I have an excellent   
lawyer if we get caught. You don't have a lawyer as far as I know. I have   
the best in the country." He pulled the car over and held out his hand. "And   
the keys to a mansion on the coast and a few hundred million bucks backing   
us up. What do you say, Mistress Thief?" Sango looked at his hand, then at   
his eyes. In all honesty, all she would really need was his body for a   
shield against bullets, his immense bank account, and his lawyer. She smiled   
and shook his hand, lying through her teeth.  
  
"Deal, Mr. Celebrity." _Once I have your money, it's off to hell you go. And   
I don't mean the plush life you lead.  
_  
"Excellent, then. Off to my seaside summer house, ne?" He asked, spinning   
the wheel. She nodded.  
  
"Sounds great." _Sounds really great._

-.-  
  
Eh heh. -coughs- Pretty much. Yep.

Chapter is dedicated to Khepri, who basically forced me to get up off of my lazy ass and whip this up. Arigato, Khepri!


	3. Just A Dream

Disclaimer: -is singing in a very Gollum-like voice- No Inuyasha for meeeeeeeeeeeeeee... -hits high note- -window panes crack-

Oi vey. Two updates in one night... I am exhausted. But I must get this chapter out!

...And I have to say: wow. Thanks for the stunning reviews. All... what? 22 of them?? 52 over all!? -faints from hysteria- You guys are SO COOL! I feel so blessed... continue my streak?? Arigato! -bows-

This is for all of you! Here we go!

(And one more thing: sorry for the screwed format. It's just how my laptop used to type before it died an untimely death. -cries, lamenting beautious laptop-)

Chapter 3  
  
"Welcome, Mistress Thief, to my home. Well, at least for the summer." Miroku  
whispered, waving a hand dramatically. Sango narrowed her eyes, still  
thinking that this was a bad idea. She didn't know why, but something about  
sneaking around unknown gardens at 3 in the morning that were possibly  
filled with police kind of turned her off. And to make matters worse, this  
idiot beside her kept trying to take her hand. Or her ass. She smacked him  
soundly for the hundredth time then winced as the sound rebounded throughout  
the dark front lawn.  
  
"Who all is here?" She snarled softly, turning to the bruising young man  
beside her. He shrugged, rubbing his stinging cheek. Damn, she could slap!  
  
"Nobody. Nobody really knows about this place, to be honest. I bought it  
under a different name and agency, so nobody here knows that this place is  
owned by me. Not even my own personal barber." Sango stared at him.  
  
"So... so you don't have people waiting on you hand and foot while you're  
here?"  
  
"Actually, I've only been here once. When I was here I simply told my staff  
I was borrowing it from a business associate. I doubt anyone remembers where  
it is- you know how long it took us to get here."  
  
And indeed, he was right. It had taken them all night (and nearly the whole  
morning) to get here- the path that led to the smallish mansion was gravel,  
a tipsy winding road through the mountains. It was difficult to follow in  
the daylight, but even worse at 2 in the morning. Sango rechecked her  
digital, glowing watch: 3:02. Was this night never going to pass!? She  
turned to the star beside her.  
  
"Well, can we get in? I mean, are any alarms going to go off or something if  
we open up a door?" She asked, trying to keep her blood from boiling. It was  
bad enough being on the run, but now she had no plan and an idiot following  
her as well. Miroku chuckled quietly.  
  
"I'm not as dumb as you think-" he started, but Sango let out an 'Ooh?'. He  
glared at her but continued. "-And I like privacy as much as you do. I pay a  
gardener cash every month to keep this place in shape, and he should have  
done it 4 days ago on Monday. So, he's not here, and I have virtually no  
alarms active in the house. Just in the upstairs balcony doors. Come on-  
we'll go in through the front." With that, he confidently stood up from  
where they had been crouching in a bush and started to stride up the  
manicured lawn. Sango hissed in anger and leapt out, landing neatly and  
quietly on the star. She pinned him down, straddling him. Miroku chuckled.  
  
"Now, now, Mistress Thief. Save that for the master suite bedroom!"  
  
-SLAPPP-  
  
"Shut up! I'm not some sick whore. Now, listen up. Here's your first official  
lesson as a thief. NEVER. Just. Walk. Up! Duh! Come on- we have to sneak up.  
Follow me." She got up off of the young man and quickly skirted the edges of  
the bushes all the way to the front, where she motioned Miroku to unlock the  
front door. As he fumbled with the keys, Sango studied the front door.  
  
"... Lock... bar code... slide... Not bad, Mr. Celebrity. Not bad at all. Basic but  
easy." Sango did a variety of hand motions, and Miroku looked on as the door  
swung noiselessly open. Sango smirked. "Way too easy. We'll be fixing that."  
She strode easily in, leaving Miroku outside, mouth agape, on the large  
front steps. He shook his head, replaced the keys in his pocket, and quickly  
followed her, being careful to shut and lock the door behind him. He found her wandering the main hall, lightly fingering the edges of several paintings. She ran her deft fingers teasingly around the edge of an expensive-looking vase, soaking up the details and colors of the paint.  
  
"Now, it's dark in here... but is this a Sengoku Jidai piece?" She asked softly,  
staring at the beautiful work of art.  
  
"Yep. It is, in fact. How could you tell?" Miroku wondered, watching the  
thin female lightly pick it up and toss it experimentally in the air. She  
chuckled quietly when he took in his breath sharply.  
  
"Don't worry, I won't drop it. The weight of the ancient materials... the rare  
inlaid gold filigree... as well as the exceptionally fine lacework of the filigree. Also  
the paint used. It's been restored, of course, but any experienced thief  
could tell you that this is very old. And extremely valuable. How much did  
you pick this up for?" She asked, tracing the swirls and patterns. Miroku  
shrugged.  
  
"Hell if I know. I didn't buy it- I inherited it. It came from my family's  
old shrine." He said, walking to her side. "Beautiful, isn't it? It's  
possibly one of my favorite pieces." Sango left the vase, continuing her  
exploration of the mansion. After studying a few scrolls in a huge library  
she found down the hall, she looked at her new student.  
  
"We need sleep. Tomorrow we figure out what we're going to do with you, and  
you are going to teach me everything you know about this place. Got it?"  
Sango said in a very demanding tone. Miroku nodded.  
  
"Sure thing, Mistress Thief. Come on, I'll show you to your room." Gently,  
he took her hand and led her up the stairs to the huge indoor balcony that  
swept about the room. He led her down the hall, still holding her hand.  
Sango tried to pull it away, but his grip only tightened. _He is trying to  
woo me, _Sango thought. _He doesn't know what he's in for... _She thought smugly.  
She watched him open a door and bow, then walk away. Sango went into the  
room and searched for a lock, only to be disappointed. Dammit. No lock. She  
flopped onto the bed exhaustedly. She clumsily pulled off her nakatie suit,  
revealing a pair of small purple lavender 'boy's style' underwear and a  
tight stomach-showing baby pink tank top. Sango's last conscious thought was  
  
_Mmm... water bed. Feather pilloooooww..._

_-.-_  
  
Sango awoke to the comforting feel of warmth, something she wasn't  
accustomed to. She moaned with pleasure, forgetting the harsh outer Sango  
for a moment. She turned over, seeking to get closer to the warmth. The  
warmth wrapped itself about her, settling around her waist, washing over her  
back, twining about her legs. She moaned again, soaking up the feeling of  
utter calm and peacefulness. She soon forgot it, however. The feeling became  
the cruelty of someone groping her ass. Sango woke up to find Miroku utterly  
molded to her body, his arms encircling her, hips grinding hers, his long  
muscled legs twisted suggestively around her own. She shrieked madly and  
punched at the terribly close range, thrashing about in a psychotic attempt  
to get him off. It worked: though far too close, her punch landed fairly  
well and succeeded in knocking him off of the bed. She scuttled backwards  
like a crab, in full-blown panic mode, until she reached the other side of  
the bed. She stared at him as he managed to clamber up using the end of the  
bed. Her voice quivered with rage.  
  
"How did- how long- you- did you-what did you!" She managed to get out. He  
smiled, despite the crater in his face. He rubbed it, but the red mark  
remained and soon flushed a dark purple. He shook his head as the delayed  
blood began to flow. He ran out of the room into her joined, private bath.  
Sango didn't move, she just stared in disbelief at the fancy dark wood  
sliding door. Miroku came out, and immediately his nosebleed started up  
again. The blood began to spurt, almost spraying on his white muscle shirt  
and dark indigo boxers. (A/N: He wears boxers! Eee! Miroku in boxers!!! o)  
He dashed back in, swearing like a sailor.  
  
-Miroku's POV-  
  
I came out of the bath, having successfully stopped my terrible nosebleed,  
and looked at the bed. I nearly passed out. Sango was in it, her  
thin-strapped shirt nearly falling off of her. Her shining hair was rumpled,  
but looked just fine as it was in a messy ponytail anyways. Her lips were  
trembling, and her (stunning, might I add) chest was heaving. I was enthralled, and  
before I could stop them, the images came.  
  
_Sango was on the bed...  
  
She was smiling...  
  
The shirt wasn't falling off...  
  
She was taking it off...  
  
For me...  
  
Her lightly tanned skin was glistening with her physical desire..._  
  
"Shit! Dammit!" I yelled as I felt the all-too-familiar rush of liquid begin  
to flow from my nose. I turned around in a half-circle and sprinted back to  
the miniature bathhouse. I slammed the door shut and pressed a Kleenex up to  
my nose, trying to stem the flow of blood. I looked into the mirror.  
  
_Miroku, don't you start this! You can't go off and try to get her! **But she's  
so beautiful. She really should model...** No! No! Bad Miroku! You. Can't.  
Think. Like. That! **Well, excuse a guy for dreaming! **She's your sensei! Your  
master! Not Koharu! **No SHIT she's not Koharu!!**_  
  
I lifted my bloodied tissue from my nose. The flow had stopped. Thank kami.  
I wiped my nose to rid it of the telltale red stain then splashed my face  
with cool mineral water from the spout. I took a monogrammed towel from the  
rack and dried my face off. I shook my head once and headed back out.  
  
-General POV-  
  
Miroku walked back out, eying Sango on the bed as though she were poisonous.  
She snarled and leapt up, completely ready to beat the crap out of the  
bastard. She stormed up to him, face already an angry red.  
  
"And what, may I ask," she started, her fists shaking with dreadful  
anticipation, "Do you think you were doing SLEEPING with me!? Hmm? Since  
when is it ok to climb into bed with me? I HATE YOU!" She spat, trying not  
to yell. "You're so irritating! Gods! Why can't you understand that? What is  
it about me that you find so irresistible?" Miroku smiled infuriatingly in  
the face of certain maiming.  
  
"Well, for one thing, your shirt keeps falling off." He said quite calmly,  
pulling a strap up from her arm and placing it nicely onto her shoulder.  
"For another thing, you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. You may  
be a cold bitch, but you're still beautiful." Sango saw red.  
  
"Is that all that matters to you? Beauty? Oh, come now, surely that French  
model you were dating was better," she said swiftly, not letting his  
compliments through. Miroku chuckled and Sango was surprised at the deep,  
sincerely pleasing sound. He shook his head.  
  
"Actually, she was German. And no, she held no contest." He leaned in close  
as his heart beat wildly. "I like you better." he whispered, then ducked his  
head fully and took her lips in a chaste but exciting kiss. Sango tried to  
back away, but unfortunately the thief met up with his arms, which pulled  
her closer to him. She had no choice but to sprawl her hands on his chest.  
Sango tried to push him away, but the actor was experienced in close-kiss  
situations and held onto her tightly. Sango groaned as he expertly moved his  
soft lips, invoking nausea and ill-meant wishes towards the rich young man.  
She attempted to bite at his lips, but they evaded him. He smirked while  
kissing her: there was no way he was chancing another bloody mouth. As she  
cried out into his lips in torment, he let her go. He was breathing  
hard, and he put one hand up to his forehead and one up against the wall in  
an attempt to steady his quivering body. Sango, on the other hand, fell to  
the floor, feeling dirty and disgusting for the first time in her life. This  
man, this bastard, had stolen not one but three kisses from her. She stood  
up shaking and looked at him. Another first timer: Sango lost her cool. She  
punched him several times, but didn't stop. As she screamed, she made sure  
to physically hammer in her words and their meaning.  
  
"YOU- ARE- SUCH- AN- ASSHOLE! GO- TO- HELL! YOU- ARE- A- FUCKING- BASTARD!"

She stopped hitting him, and stared at his mangled form on the floor.  
Exhausted, she fell down too, crying as though her body was shattering. She  
wrapped her arms around herself, trying to stop her tears and trembling lips.

Why am I being such a weakling?  
  
"I'm such a c-coward." She stuttered, trying to stop her hiccupping cries.  
Miroku sat up, having absorbed most of the blows into his aching arms. He  
crawled on his hands and knees across the soft carpet, moving slowly and  
cautiously over to the dangerous thief. He sat down beside her and tried to  
comfort her. Even though he was the cause of all of this anger and pain, he  
rubbed her back and attempted to calm her. When she didn't stop shaking, he  
carefully wrapped his strong arms around her. Sango, in a depressed stupor  
over her lost honor, melted into his grip. He murmured words of comfort and  
serenity to her, crooning to her like a parent would to an upset child.  
Eventually, all anger and sadness dissipated under his circle-rubbing hands,  
and Sango was quiet with the exception of a random hiccup. She sniffled once  
before realizing who was holding her.  
  
"Let me-" She started angrily, trying to push him away before-  
  
"Just stay." Miroku whispered, pulling her closer. One of his hands left her  
back and traveled to her hair. He let his fingers run through the silky  
strands, twirling the straight dark brown ends before going back up. He  
murmured something that Sango didn't quite catch, but she was too shocked to  
ask for a repeat. Miroku, not hearing an answer, repeated his quiet  
statement.  
  
"Mistress Thief. I am so sorry. I don't know what got into me. I guess that  
I just got sick of that happening to me so-"  
  
"So you subjugated ME to it?" Sango asked quietly.  
  
"Yes. But I would take it back, I truly would. Could we just... could we just  
stay like this?" He asked softly.  
  
"No!" Sango bucked her hips violently, surprising Miroku. He let her go, and  
she bounded out of his arms. "Don't... don't touch me!" She yelled, clenching  
her fists. She let the tears flow before she saw Miroku stand up. He walked  
over and Sango, eyeing him carefully, found herself moving towards him. She  
remembered his lips, his body, the way he had held her. She swallowed  
nervously. She hadn't liked it... had she? Miroku watched her with the same  
intense stare. He moved towards her, slowly running the back of his hand  
across her cheek. Sango felt herself melt against the only kindness anyone  
had ever really shown her. They suddenly, in a fit of unknown lust, clung  
together. They claimed each other's lips, moving viciously to the other's  
time. Their bodies met, grinding against the other's hips harshly as they  
sought to let out the feelings they had never been exposed to...  
  
-.-  
  
"What the hell?" Sango muttered. She opened her eyes, but instead of facing  
Miroku, she found herself in bed. She was vibrating, covered in sweat, and a  
nervously exciting feeling was collecting rapidly in her stomach. She  
groaned and clutched her lower abdomen, wondering what in the world could  
cause it.  
  
"What is this?" She murmured to herself. She shook her head. "That was  
disgusting. Kissing him like that. Oh well... just a dream... Just a fricking  
lifelike dream..."  
  
-.-  
  
"Just a dream. Just a wonderful dream..." Miroku whispered, trying to calm his  
lower extremities. "Just an absolutely stunning dream. No need to get  
excited..." He tried to remember what she had tasted like, what her soft hips  
had felt like against his."Shit!" There would be no sleep tonight, apparently.  
  
-.-  
  
-Knock knock-  
  
"What do you want?" An irritated Sango snapped. She was still puzzled over  
her dream, still trying to figure out what exactly her mind was trying to  
tell her. Sango's dreams had a nasty way of becoming real, but she had never  
really DREAMT something she didn't want. She had mostly just dreamed about  
rare jewels to be confiscated. But now...  
  
"This is the police. Open up- we know you're in there!" Sango froze. The  
door swung open and she chucked a nearby water jug at whoever was opening  
the door. The person in the doorway was caught straight in the face. They  
fell to the ground, moaning about stupid thieves who can't take a joke.  
  
"Mr. Celebrity? Oh. It's just you." Sango said. She shrugged. "Stupid idiot-  
what kind of dull-edged loser pretends to be the police around me?"  
  
"Mistress Thiiieeeeef... there's nobody here but us. Did I really SOUND like a  
policeman?" Miroku whined. He stood, looked up, and was frozen on the spot.  
_S-she's wearing the same outfit she was in the dream!_  
  
**_He's wearing that same outfit! Damn it!_**  
  
"What're you staring at, you baka?" Sango asked incredulously, as though  
there was nothing to stare at. In truth, she was staring at Miroku in quite  
the same way, but her gaze was with horror. Not perverted hopes and dreams.  
  
"So, uh. you hungry?" He asked, shifting nervously. Just her atmospheric  
presence was driving him insane. She shrugged and climbed out of the bed.  
She looked down at herself, and a light pink blush smoothed across her  
cheekbones. Miroku decided to make her blush more often. She looked really  
cute like that. She looked up and glared at him.  
  
"Get out. I'll be down in half an hour. I need a shower. Out!" Miroku didn't  
argue- he just got out. He walked downstairs, and began to inspect his  
pantry for food.  
  
-.-

Ah, Dirty Little Thief. You know, I really like this story. It's fun to write, and it's got an... interesting... way of writing itself! Plus, who doesn't like to see poor Sango forced into the same damn habitat as Miroku??

Review?

And check out the profile of Khepri! She rocks and is my favorite authoress! She's responsible for a lot of what goes on in my chapters. -applauds- Go review her! NOW I SAY!

And... review for me, too??

-FL


	4. And Said Reaction

Disclaimer: Me no own, you no sue. Comprende, mis amigos?

Woah! 20 review heaven! Yaaaaaaa baby!!! Wahoooooo! -hugs you all- You are the coolest! I am now my reviewer's slave!! Yes, masters? -bows-

On to DLT, Chapter 4, take 20,345!

And so everyone knows- this story is my usual mix of romance, angst, and comedy; but I'm really working on putting in about 300x the amount of action/adventure/comedy that I usually do. I'm trying to mix up my stories a bit. I'm also putting as much sexual tension into this story as I possibly can. Yes, I'm aware of the fact that it might ruin it. But it's so much fun!

Not so much angst in here. It's too depressing.

(It took so long to get this up because I LITERALLY went back and re-wrote every sentence. Even if it didn't change at all, I went back and re-wrote it. It's the only way I can post this story any more.)

Chapter 4

"What do you have there?" Sango asked, patting her still-damp head. Her hair was drawn up in a simple ponytail, and the wet ends were swinging loosely against her mid-back. Miroku looked up from a bowl of colorful cereal and swallowed.

"Captain Crunch. My gardener is also paid to keep up my food supply here. Fresh milk, fruit, and juice in the fridge, cereals and breads in the pantry. Help yourself to whatever you want. He went back to his bowl, munching happily. Sango rolled her eyes. She shuffled through the metal cabinets, briefly admiring the handiwork, then finding herself a bowl. She grabbed a spoon from the drawer and poured herself a bowl of Choco Pebbles. Splashing some 2 percent milk into it and snagging a mouthful before sitting down on a nearby stool, Sango let her eyes drift about the room in slight wonder.  
  
The room was sparsely decorated, to be sure, but that wasn't calling it simple. It had a futuristic look to it, being made completely of metallic material and glass. Strange but beautiful lamps were everywhere, making sure the space was well-lit. Sango chewed thoughtfully, spinning slowly on her stool, before swallowing and turning to Miroku. "So, Mr. Celebrity. Is the rest of your house this expensive?"  
  
"My dear Mistress Thief.... this was my cheapest room to decorate. Do you like it? I designed it myself." Sango shrugged and turned back to the chocolaty goodness before her. She wouldn't even dream of telling the cocky bastard that she adored this room. It was so- sophisticated- and so her.

"Ok, don't answer that then. Tell me- why did you take Choco Pebbles. I find them disgusting. Honestly, how can you eat those things?" Sango took an extra big bite to spite him.  
  
"I'll have you know that I have not eaten these since I was a small child, and if you insult my choice of breakfast material once more I will kick your ass and then blow it off."  
  
"Sound like it would hurt."  
  
"And then some." Sango said smugly, silently slurping down the rest of the now-chocolate milk. She tossed her bowl like a UFO across the room and smirked when it sailed neatly into the sink. She chucked the spoon after it, hearing the satisfactory clang as it followed it's predecessor. Miroku eyed her. Sango, feeling his gaze, gave him a look that clearly said 'What are you staring it, you slack-jawed idiot?'  
  
"You can eat more if you want. That was a pretty small bowl," stated Miroku. To demonstrate, he took a humongous bite of his cereal. Sango shook her head.  
  
"No. I need to watch my weight." She stood and strode over to the sink to stick her dishes in the dishwasher. Miroku stared at her slender waist as it moved across the room. Studying it carefully, he came to a conclusion.

God DAMN she's thin. What does she mean, watch her weight? With her lifestyle, it can't be EASY to gain weight. I mean, good Kami. Look at her. JEE-zuz is she fine. Mmm, what else does she have going for her? Nice chest, proportionate to her height and age... I think. How old is she anyways? Carrying on. Her legs are pretty thick, but they're all muscle, so oh well. Definite advantages to that.   
  
"Stop ogling at my legs. Now. That is not a request." Sango said, neatly whipping around. A bar of lemon-scented soap (A/N: FLUFFY lemonn soap!!) followed, whacking Miroku in the eye. Miroku got up and danced in pain, bumping the table and spilling the bowl of milk on it.  
  
"Ow! Shit! Damn you and your fucking PERFECT aim! Just HAD to be lemon, too! Ow! Ow! O- WHOA!" Miroku slipped on the milk, which had spread a good deal. After all, his bowl had been about the size of a salad bowl. (Which it technically was.) There had been a lot of milk in it. Miroku went sailing down the wet stuff, screaming the whole way and still clutching his eye. He managed to get pretty far, considering he had a 'running' start. Sango shrieked and tried to move, but it was too late. Miroku slammed into her legs and Sango THUNKED right on top of him. By now, both were horrified, both were pissed, and both were covered with the goddamn milk. Miroku moaned and opened his eyes, one fine and one slightly red. They opened wider.

Sango had fainted. Her face was painted red, like she had a fever or was blushing or something, and Miroku gulped. Uh oh. Did he knock her out!? Sango was going to be SO PISSED when she woke up! He sat up, carefully cradling the unresponsive thief in his arms.  
  
"Wow," he murmured. Her angelically suffering face was slack and peaceful. "She fits." Indeed, she did. Like a lock and key, their bodies had molded together perfectly. Her small but thickly muscled frame seemed bound by gravity to his taller, leaner body. He smiled, but just for a moment. Sango had woken up and smacked him across the room by the time Miroku could make heads or tails of what had happened.  
  
"What were you doing!?" She screeched, making Miroku put his hands to his ears. "You disgusting pervert! What were you planning to d-ohhh..." With that, Sango dropped to the floor. Miroku jumped forward, catching her before she fell. He tenderly cradled the obviously sick woman in his arms and stood up, trying not to injure her limp form in any way, shape, or form. He held her bridal style as he carried her up the stairs and down the hall into her bedroom. He kicked open the door as quietly as he could and lay her down. Miroku glanced worriedly at her feverish face. What was the matter with her?

Contemplating his next move, he decided to stay with her. He lay tentatively next to her, propping his body up with an elbow and forearm. His free arm reached out and he gently moved a few of her dark chocolate tresses from her warm, red face. A slight sheen of sweat was covering her forehead, and Miroku was debating calling a doctor when her eyes fluttered weakly open. Sango immediately tried to sit up, but Miroku would have none of it. He put a strong arm around her waist and forced her back down, looking into her eyes.

"Just relax. I think you're really sick. Were you sick before? Have you not been eating enough? Maybe you ate something you've never had before? Are you diabetic? Maybe you caught something from-" He shot questions at her rapidly, searching her face. Sango winced.  
  
"Dammit! Damn-IT damn-IT damn-IT!" She said hoarsely. Miroku looked at her.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I haven't taken any milk for... a long, long time. I completely forgot- I'm a bit lactose intolerant." She mumbled, her face going a darker shade of red and looking off to the side. "I-I haven't drunk milk since I was small, and it wasn't so bad back then. I guess I, I dunno, got worse. It'll go away soon. I feel better already. ...How do I look?" Miroku almost laughed- she was worrying about how she looked?  
  
"Pretty good. Beautiful, really."  
  
"Spare me the theatrics, Mr. Celebrity." Sango said, rolling her eyes.  
  
"Ok. Pretty good. Beautiful, really." Miroku said, looking into her dark brown eyes. "...Mistress Thief?"  
  
"What do you want now?"  
  
"Did you know you have the most amazing eyes in the entire world?"  
  
"Shut the hell up. I'm not in the mood." Sango sat up, pushing him off. She attempted to get off of the bed, but Miroku pinned her down. She looked up at him, and despite her efforts, her eyes betrayed fear and anger. Sango did not like their current position.  
  
"Mistress Thief?"  
  
"What!? Let me up now!" A couple of seconds of struggling did her no good, and, in a rage, Sango bucked her hips to throw him off. Her hips slammed against his, and Miroku froze. So did Sango. Her pupils contracted in a feral way, and she swore quietly. "Oh my goddess. I'm sorry," she murmured, trying to fight her blush. Miroku stared at her.  
  
"No... it's fine... I mean!... Well..." He struggled madly for words. "Erm... what's your name?" Sango looked at him strangely.  
  
"I'm having a lactose reaction, you're on top of me on your hands and knees, I just rammed my hips into you, and you are _asking me my name!? What the hell is the matter with you!?_" She took a breath, trying to calm her racing heart. Miroku continued to look at her.  
  
"Well?" He said softly, rolling off of her. He smiled passively. Sango looked at him, confused.  
  
"Well what?"  
  
"What's your name?" Miroku asked again, tilting his head. "I'll tell you mine."  
  
"Y-you first," Sango said shakily. She didn't know why, but she felt uneasy telling this guy her name. Miroku cocked his lips into a gorgeous lopsided grin.  
  
"Miroku. But you already sort of knew that. And you, Mistress Thief?" Sango sat up and started to walk out of the room.  
  
"None of your business."  
  
"None of my business? Good gods, girl! I'm your fricking partner!" He raced after her, grabbing her arm in the hall. Sango threw him off. She spat at his feet and kept walking. Miroku pursued her further. He swiftly strode up beside her, matching her step for step as she blindly walked around a house she was unfamiliar with. "What's the matter?" Miroku pressed. "Why won't you tell me your name? Are you afraid I'll turn you in?" No answer. Sango kept walking. "Are you afraid that I might want to know something about you?" Still running from him. "Are you afraid that I won't like it?" No response. Something clicked inside Miroku's head then.

"Wait- are you afraid that I WILL like it? That it will be one more thing about you that I think is perfect?" Sango stopped. She was visibly trembling. Miroku smiled. "Ah. So you're terrified of affection, eh? You're scared someone might actually want to be around you just for the sake of being around you?"  
  
SMACKKK  
  
"Shut up! I am not!" Sango hissed, her face a bright red. Her anger came quickly, but it didn't come fast enough. Miroku saw a few lingering tears in her eyes before they evaporated into a hateful steam. He smiled, despite the bruise forming over the other bruise on his cheek. He spoke gently, like one would to a frightened horse.  
  
"Please, I just wish to know the name of my accomplice. Come now, Mistress Thief. I'm sorry about what I said. I may have been wrong."  
  
"Damn straight you were wrong!" Sango huffed out. At Miroku's waiting look, she sighed and caved in. "Fine. My name... it's Sango."  
  
"Sango?" Miroku said. "Sango. Mm. You have a beautiful name... Sango," he whispered to himself. The way he said it, the way he blended the 'n' and the 'go' together made shivers run down Sango's spine. "Lady Sango."  
  
"What?" She snapped irritably. "Yes, that's my name. Good job!"  
  
"You still appear sick, Lady Sango. Allow me to take you to your room."  
  
"Piss off, Houshi. I can walk." With that, she strode away. Miroku winced: she said 'Houshi' with a certain detachment, an air of indifference. It hurt. And it felt like rejection.  
  
-.-

There you go. A note to this chapter: I know it's random, and probably the most cliche and terrible thing I've ever posted, but just re-read it and _imagine_ it. You know you like the images.

Apologies for the lactose reaction thing- that's the worst I've ever seen happen to my friends. You know, brief fevers, fainting spells, that sort of thing. Apologies if I got something wrong. -nod-

Happiness! I have completely broken through my hiatus! And now it's back up!

Reviews? Please?

-FL


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